


Undone

by AndiiErestor



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 22:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7126165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndiiErestor/pseuds/AndiiErestor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who are you? Death?"</p><p>"Sometimes... Not today."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undone

He was tired. It had been a long day and he wanted nothing more than to find a soft, comfortable bed to lay on. That said, he had no idea where to begin searching for one. He wasn't as familiar with good, old London-town as he would have liked to be. Work had brought him here on many occasions, but he'd never paid much attention to his whereabouts past what was necessary for the job. He knew his way around main-street well enough, as well as a few of the back-alleys where he'd spent most of his time, but no particular signage came to mind when he thought of finding an inn or hostel.

As far as this week was concerned, he'd spent most of it licking his wounds, and while they still burned, they were healing relatively well. However, he still had nowhere to call home, since his previous residence was destroyed during the escape. This is why he now found himself in this non-descript park as the sun was beginning to set. There were a few children running home in every direction as their parents called their names. Some shops were closing up for the evening, but those that remained open for business cast their lights upon the surrounding area.

When it appeared that he was alone in the park, he approached the abandoned swing set and took a seat - nearly falling back the moment his feet left the ground. Regaining his balance he clutched his ribs harshly and hissed in pain.  _Great_ , he thought, _just great. All I need right now is to reopen that gash,_ but his thoughts were interrupted by a small giggle coming from his right.

Eyes wide as a doe's, he spun around to find the small child only a few metres away, swinging lightly, despite the late hour. She could only have been as old as 7 or 8, yet no one seemed to be looking for her.

"Are you all right mister?" she asked his, her head tilted to the side, hair swaying back and forth as she went. "Have you never sat on a swing before? You must hold the ropes of course, 'else you'll fall." She giggled again remembering the spectacle she'd just witnessed.

"Yes, that seems rather logical," he replied, and released his side to raise his arms, but stopped half-way as the movement pulled at the wound in his side. "Rather, it would quite simple if I could."

This caught the astute child's attention and she quickly stopped swinging to head over to him. "Are you hurt mister?" she prodded. "You should see a nurse if you're hurt. It's not good to keep it hidden."

He laughed. "I've seen doctors and nurses and even surgeons. They've done their part. The rest is up to me now."

_It will probably be the last time I see them as well. I doubt they would welcome me back, especially should I end up with such wounds again._

Her words struck a chord with him however, "What I am most concerned about is why a young girl like yourself is out here at this late hour. Are your parents not concerned? It is dangerous to wander in dark places alone."

"Papa is doing business with one of the vendors around the corner. He always lets me come along so that I can play in the park," she explained, "Our home is very big, but we do not have games like these and there aren't many children to play with."

"I see," he nodded, "I would hate for your time to come so soon... It has always brought me a terrible sadness to carry a child over before they were given a proper chance to live, and now that I am gone, I do not know who they will send."

He appeared lost in thought, remembering all those he'd helped, since the beginning. He remembered all of them, but the children he remembered clearly. He knew their names, their faces, their joys and their sadness. Their pain, most of all, he knew - he felt as though it were his own, and it was, for their deaths brought him grief. He turned back to face the girl and gave her a distracted smile, his eyes hooded as he gazed at her.

She watched him carefully as he began to stand, shifting his weight awkwardly so as not to cause himself any pain.

"It's time I went now," he muttered, "It's getting late, and there'll soon be no more beds. Your father should be nearly done with his business as well. I would hate for him to think the worst."

"Who are you?" she asked him finally, and yet as the words left her mouth she knew the answer. "Death?"

He replied, "Sometimes..." and looked up at the sky - storm clouds were moving in, he'd have to hurry or be end up soaked. "Not today."

With that he reached up with his good arm and removed his glasses, before throwing them to the ground. As he moved to crush them with his boot the young girl pleaded him, "No."

"And why not?" he huffed, "I'll not be needing these again."

"May I?"

"May you what, child?" he wondered.

"May I keep them?" she asked. "I should very much like to keep them, please. If I may."

With a curious look on his face, he shrugged, "Why not. I see no harm in it, though you'll find they may be of no use to you."

The young girl slowly picked them up off the ground and cleaned them with the hem of her dress before trying them on her head. They were much too large of course, the frame being for an adult's head and not that of a child, but she giggled as she peered through them all the same.

"Thank you mister," she smiled, "I'll take good care of them. You'll see."

"Yes, I'm certain you will," he nodded to himself and squinted at the path leading out of the park, "Farewell, little miss Phantomhive."

She gasped, "How did you know?"

He offered her a smile, but nothing more as they parted ways.

She gazed after him with curiosity and longing as he walked away, occasionally grasping his side, occasionally reaching out in front of himself to make sure he wouldn't walk into any obstacles.

Before long, her father came for her, and found her looking into the distance distractedly.

"Are you well, sweet? Is something the matter?" he asked worriedly.

"No papa. I am well," she responded before giving him a tight hug.

"Where- _ever_ did you get those glasses darling?" he laughed, "They're much too big for you. I'm sure someone will be missing them."

"It's alright papa. Someone gave them to me. They were going to break them, but aren't they so pretty?"

"Yes, alright dear. Let's be off now. It's much too late to be in a park. I'm sorry I took so long with business, do you think you shall ever forgive me?"

The girl laughed whole-heartedly and gave her father another hug, "Of course, papa. Of course."

"Then let us go home," he stated, and took her small hand in his, leading the way back to the carriage.

She stopped mid-step hair blowing in her face from the wind and turned to look behind her.

"What is it, sweet?" her father asked.

"Nothing," she shook her head and resumed walking, "I thought I heard someone calling my name."

"What a silly thing to say," he chuckled, "No one here knows your name. You've not given your name to anyone, have you?"

"No, papa," she answered, "I've not given my name..." but a knowing smile was on her lips as they rode home, for she had not needed to give him her name. He had known her immediately, and she was not worried for that.


End file.
